Wednesday, 17 August 2011

As you were, I'm afraid


Owing to an embarrassing misunderstanding between myself and society photographer Scarlet B. the image I posted yesterday (see below), supposedly of the future appearance of three of my blog friends, was not of them at all but of the Fates (seen above in a somewhat stylised depiction). I can only apologise.

These ladies, well known to Greek mythology as the three Moiras (more correctly, Moirai) control all our futures.

Clotho, the spinner, spins out the thread of our comments lives.

Lachesis, she who allots, measures out the thread for each of us.

Atropos, a lady not for turning, cuts the thread irrevocably at the moment of our demise.

Some of you have identified yourselves with one or other of these ladies. You've thus clearly given yourselves away. I've always been kind to you, haven't I?

I thought you ought to know that I know that you know that I know.


Clotho East .... Great-Aunt Lachesis .... Atropos Z

15 comments:

Dave said...

I suppose I'd better start spinning out this comment column then.

Dave said...

Adde parvum parvo magnus acervus erit. (Ovid)

Rog said...

This is a grate heap, cinders.

Sarah said...

Eeeeew the thought that Lachesis may be a little mean with her thread is a worry.

Z said...

It's all right. It's not time yet. We've all got time to spin some more yarns.

Rosie said...

I have a turkish drop spindle, will that do?

Christopher said...

Dave: I was about to suggest that you enrol these ladies in BMCC, where there's a dearth of spinners (Rosie's Turkish drop sounds deadly, like Spedegue's Dropper, if you know the Conan Doyle story). And then I was wondering if, during your hill-walking, you are one of those people who adds stones to cairns, quoting Ovid?

Rog: Nothing to add to this very informative comment, except that when we lived in Scotland (not Paisley) there was an installer of fireplaces known locally as Alexander the Grate.

Sah: I know. It's like being a puppet. On one string. With Edward Scissorhands in the wings. Or that horrific great, long, red-legg'd scissor-man in Struwwelpeter. Happy dangling.

Z: This is a very great comfort. Thank you.

Rosie: I should think that will do very well. Can we order some extra stout twist from you? Clearly all our lives are in your lap.

Dave said...

I do indeed.

Christopher said...

Oh dear. Nothing but muddle. Are you referring to Conan Doyle or Ovid? Extra marks will be awarded for entertaining observations on Ovid's family name.

Dave said...

Brevity being the soul of wit the same answer applied to both questions.

Dave said...

Hamlet Act 2, scene 2.

Dave said...

I am keeping my nose out of Publius Ovidius Naso's family name.

Christopher said...

Very good, Dave. I don't suppose you could lend me a couple of drolleries till the end of the month, could you? Even a couple of facetiae would do. I'm clean out of anything amusing to write over at Z's place today.

Dave said...

I'm saving the only pun I've thought of this week for Saturday's post. I'm not really in the mood for humour at the moment. Ow!

Christopher said...

All right, Dave, you're excused. I may be forced to get something off the shelf from Rog or Martin.